


Bears

by maharieel



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 02:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7135421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maharieel/pseuds/maharieel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair questions Lilah’s odd choice of name for her Mabari.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bears

The fire danced across her face, her hair alight and the liveliest he had ever seen, and for the first time Alistair caught himself feeling a certain attraction to his Warden Comrade. It was barely a tightening in his chest, but it happened nonetheless. Lilah was not the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, but considering that she had been a dying mess when they had first met, she looked beautiful now beside the fire. Her cheeks had found a fraction of what he guesses was their original colour, her hair had ceased to fall in clumps from her scalp (although it was still awfully thin and jagged from where she had hacked at it) and her veins had lost their charcoal tint. She looked healthier than Alistair had ever seen her, not that he had known her for long. 

And yet, she still _acted_ as if she was dying.

To be fair, they had been through a lot over the past few weeks – and judging what little information Duncan had told him regarding her recruitment, she had not led the easiest of lives before Ostaghar – but still . . . he had never seen her smile, never heard her laugh, never seen any light in her features. Every time he glanced in her direction, she had a look akin to grief plastered on her face. Somehow, he did not think it was for Duncan. 

Alistair had been hesitant to approach her, in fear she would lose her temper or snap at him. He just wanted to talk to her, Warden to Warden in the very least; the last time she had said a word to him was when they had been moving through Lothering, and even then, it had been her snarling at him to shut his mouth. Maker, the elf had spoken to Morrigan more than him. He figured that, if there was ever a time to cross the divide between them, then it was now, with her sitting quietly by the fire as she picked at a piece of bread. At least she didn’t seem to be in such a foul mood.

“Do you mind?” he asked wearily, gesturing to the endless space beside her.

She grunted at him, shaking her head as her eyes stayed focused on the fire before her.

Alistair was careful to keep some distant between them as he slowly sat. He caught her glancing at him in her peripheral vision, her jaw clenching subtly. Maybe he had misread her mood . . .

Before he could muster the courage to strike up a conversation (or run away), Lilah’s newly adopted Mabari wandered over and collapsed on her. Despite the dog’s sheer size compared to her own, Lilah allowed it to rest its head and front paws in her lap. Alistair noticed the way the Mabari kept its eyes on him. Two peas in a pod, he thought as he took in the warning in the dog’s eyes.

He glanced back up at Lilah to see her run a hand absentmindedly through the Mabari’s fur. Her eyes were staring vacantly down at the animal, lost in a world of past grievances he could not begin to comprehend. His voice sounded more strained than he had anticipated when he spoke. “So, you like Mabari? They seem to be fond of you, at any rate.”

“Yes.”

The rawness of her voice startled him just as it did every time she (rarely) spoke. She sounded like her throat was packed with ash . . . curtesy of her horrid state on arrival at Ostaghar, he presumed. He wondered if her voice had been sweet before everything went to shit. _Probably not._

Alistair racked his mind for something to break the silence throbbing between them. “If you don’t mind me asking . . . what did you call it? The Mabari, I mean.”  
Lilah didn’t reply for such a long time that he thought she had not heard him, or had and had elected to ignore him as others in his past often had. He was readying himself to stand, tired of trying to be kind, when she finally spoke up.

“Bear,” she muttered in that broken voice of hers. “I named him Bear.”

Alistair fought off a grin as he sat back down. _Thank the Maker, she’s willingly talking to me._ “Bear? That’s uh – well it just seems like a bit of an odd name. For a Mabari.”

He saw her swallow hard. “Maybe.”

“Why choose it then?” he prodded, wanting to prolong their conversation.

Again, she hesitated like before. He was walking on dangerous ground, he knew. He was more likely to stumble into very personal, very guarded territory with such questions, but he desperately wanted to know the woman beside him, desperately wanted her to talk to him. If that meant being nosy, then so be it. 

“You do not know much of Dalish customs?”

He shook his head, but only realised after the act that she wasn’t looking. “Ah, no. Not really.”

She sighed as if she wasn’t surprised. “Hunters have to undergo apprenticeships in order to be accepted by the Clan. Usually you do it when you come of age. As part of the final test, each apprentice must slay a wolf or bear and return with its pelt.”

Alistair raised an eyebrow, trying desperately to hide his smile. _She hasn’t ever said this much to me in one sitting._ “Alone?”

Lilah nodded, which made his mouth gape slightly. “Wise apprentices go after wolves because they are somewhat easier prey. Only fools and pricks go after bears.”

His eyes wandered to the claw marks scarring her jaw. “So you went after a wolf, I guess?”

Again, she looked at him in her peripheral, but did not reply. 

He couldn’t help his own fascination. “One of your friends went after a bear though, right?”

“Yes.”

“Was he a fool or a prick?” he jested, the faintest of grins playing across his features.

Her mouth suddenly fell into a very thin line and her eyes snapped back to the fire. Alistair knew in that moment that he had crossed his boundary, that he had hit a nerve, and despite his own curiosity he remained silent as she mulled through her own thoughts. Her eyes eventually fell back to Bear, her fingers rubbing at a soft spot behind the Mabari’s ears.

Then she met Alistair’s gaze. 

She had only looked him in the eye three times since they had met: when he had asked if she had ever fought a darkspawn; when she had caught him watching as she hacked off what was left of her hair; and when she had yelled at him to shut up at the entrance to Lothering. Each time, her eyes appeared to be different colours. He was not sure if it was merely a result of differences in lighting, or if her eyes actually changed colours (which he doubted) but either way he was still somewhat taken aback by the way they glowed a pale green in the dying light. Like a cat’s, he noted. 

“He was a foolish idiot who believed himself capable of more than he was and he was hurt because of it,” she muttered, eyes hard. “But he wasn’t ever a prick.”  
Lilah dropped her gaze and stood all in one fluid motion, muttering something in a tongue he could not understand as she wandered to her tent. Bear followed at her heals, casting a wearing glance over his shoulder before slipping into her tent behind her. Alistair’s heart sunk as the prism snapped back into place around her.

Somehow, he didn’t think Lilah had simply been talking about hunting bears.


End file.
